Vignettes and Tableaux
by Dixie Dewdrop's Seven Brides
Summary: In Adam McFadden's world, the snapshots of life which occur and involve the family are more than mirrors of everyday events. Instead, those life portraits build and interact upon one another to define and strengthen his new McFadden Family.
1. Realistic Expectations

Realistic Expectations

Of all of his imaginings of how his day would unfold, at no time had it crossed Crane McFadden's mind that the pivotal moment would occur when his brother Adam yanked the twelve year old across his lap and delivered an unforgettable, non-negotiable, no-way-to-save-himself butt blistering.

What an absolute nightmare!

Crane stuttered through attempts to exonerate himself as a bid to try everything in his power to beg his way out of trouble.

He failed.

Truthfully, the pre-teen never had a chance. Adam had no intention of granting a pass for his younger's thoughtless and irresponsible behavior.

Once Crane obeyed Adam's terse command to move the hands Crane had endeavored to protect his rear end he ushered in a world of pain and hurt. His protests dissolved into gasps, then tears, before body-shaking sobs replaced them. It took just three blistering smacks from Adam's hand to destroy his stoic initial resolve to not cry, and every lick after brought an increase in the intensity of the sobs.

The spanking hurt! No amount of squirming could dislodge him from Adam's hold. Adam, for his part, meant he would deliver a lesson Crane would never forget. He reiterated the reason for the spanking with each blistering contact made with Crane's bare bottom.

No! No! No! His bottom hurt so, so much!

Crane realized the futility of struggling after the first two smacks. No matter how much he begged for a second chance or how strategically he struggled in Adam's grip he could not change the course of the punishment.

Finally Crane accepted the inevitable and just buried his face in his arms and waited for his agony to end.

It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! Compounding the misery of the pain from the spanking was the embarrassment of his naked butt visible and exposed for anyone to see.

Worse, an inner dread that his little brother Ford would turn around and witness Adam spanking him lurked in the back of his mind. It would embarrass him so badly to have his first grade brother witness Adam spanking him!

Why had he ever allowed himself to end up in this predicament? What had he been thinking?

The twelve year old had considered his newfound status as a seventh grader a stepping stone into a more mature existence, one where he didn't have to ask permission for every single thing. After all, he wasn't an elementary kid any more.

So when his best friends Tyler Jordan and Ryan Neeley proposed that they get together midweek after school for an early autumn swim in a local pond, he readily endorsed the plan. All three boys loved swimming and the pond itself was only about a half mile from Ryan's house. The people who owned the land had landscaped the area around the pond's perimeter and had even added a picnic table and a couple of benches.

Since these neighbors were out of town the boys could skip clearing their use of the pond with the neighbors.

After some discussion the boys settled on planning their pond outing for Thursday afternoon and also agreed to fabricate a school assignment to provide an alibi. Since November would herald an upcoming election, the boys decided to use that as the basis for the excuse to spend the afternoon together.

Could they be any more clever?

Tyler and Crane knew without asking or consulting that they would not be allowed to visit the pond during the school week, or without permission, or at a date so long past summer. On the other hand, Ryan's parents had always been a bit more lax.

Crane set his plan into motion after supper once Adam began to work with the boys during homework time. He pointed to his Social Studies text with the eraser of his pencil. "Adam, my history teacher put us in groups for a project on the election. She said we have to do some of the work outside of school. The only afternoon Tyler and Ryan and I can get together is Thursday. Ryan checked with his folks and we can meet at his house. Is that all right with you?"

He paused and waited for Adam's reply.

Adam rubbed his chin and glanced over at the calendar by the refrigerator. All extraneous activities for the family were outlined on that calendar to keep him updated. He squinted to read Thursday's entry and smiled. "Yeah, that can work. Ford has Chess Club and I can pick you up once I collect him from his school."

"Great," Crane smiled. "I really want to make an A on this."

"You will," Adam assured him with a grin. "I have faith in you. You are one smart young man and you always make me proud."

Crane swallowed to squelch the rush of guilt that enveloped him. He could stop lying right now and reverse the deception if he wanted. Crane closed his eyes and weighed his honesty against his dishonesty.

"Do you boys have everything you need for the project? All the supplies?"

Crane opened his eyes and rubbed a forefinger over his bottom lip to cover his nervousness. "No, we're good, thanks."

Despite the ease at which he had secured a supervision free Thursday afternoon Crane clearly understood he had compromised his own ethical foundation. Not only had he lied, but he had also misled his brother into thinking he had to meet with his friends. A couple of times the words formed on the tip of his tongue to call off the whole venture, but he suppressed them and allowed the opportunities to pass.

So Thursday afternoon the three boys laughed their way to the pond, stripped down to their underwear, and swam and played their way through a couple of hours.

Some time later Tyler glanced at the sky and announced that it was probably time for him to trek home. His parents had agreed to the after school project plan but wanted him home long before supper.

Crane and Ryan waved goodbye but opted to stay longer.

While Crane and his friends played at the pond, Adam collected Ford from Chess Club. He had elected to chauffeur one child from the elementary school before he picked up Crane.

Excited about the chess moves he had learned after school, Ford talked non-stop as he drove.

Once he reached Ryan's house Adam shifted the truck into park and let it idle, then sent Ford to summon Crane.

Ford returned to report that Ryan's sister informed him Ryan was at Crane's house-at the McFadden house- and not vice versa.

Adam tried to make sense of the answer and had Ford repeat the words. When he couldn't decipher the message to his satisfaction he went to speak with Ryan's sister himself.

That proved educational.

Adam returned to the truck still trying to process the turn of events and piecing the story together. Crane had lied- out and out lied- to him about working at Ryan's house.

Why?

Was there even a school project?

If Craig had not gone from school to Ryan's house, where was Crane? Was he up to something dangerous? Was he hurt?

Ford strapped himself into his seat and the first grader turned to Adam expectantly. "If Crane's not here at Ryan's, can we go get him where he is?"

"Yes," Adam switched on the ignition and tried to remain calm in front of Ford so as to not upset him. Yet a whole part of him wanted to collapse into panic. What if Crane were hurt or in some type of danger? Had he failed in protecting his younger sibling?

Another part of Adam felt the anger begin to ferment. Crane had outright lied to him. Lied as in not uttered a single honest thing in the entire school project conversation! Adam felt confident now that Crane had deliberately manipulated the events of this afternoon and fabricated the whole project.

Not certain of which direction to travel to find his brother, Adam followed the road in front of Ryan's house and hoped it would lead him toward the right path. Half a mile from Ryan's house he and Ford spotted a figure by the side of the road.

Ford bounced in his seat. "I know that person! He's Tyler. See Adam? That's Crane's friend, Tyler."

Adam focused. Sure enough he recognized Tyler, the same Tyler with whom Crane should have been working to create an election project.

Adam honked and watched Tyler's expression change from nonchalance to panic once he identified Adam.

The child physically froze in place.

Well, that left no doubt in Adam's mind that the boys had made up the whole election after school project.

Adam edged the vehicle to the side of the road and motioned Tyler over. He rolled down the window.

A wide-eyed Tyler approached. "Yes sir, Adam?"

Despite the seriousness of the situation Adam almost laughed at the tone of voice. Based on body language, Tyler knew that the scheme had unraveled and his voice reflected that with every nuance. Adam barely had to speak before the child confessed all to him.

Adam directed Tyler to head straight home and assured him that he would speak with Tyler's folks that evening.

He and Ford continued with the quest.

Crane and Ryan had already emerged from the water and stood on the edge of the pond chatting with each other when Adam pulled up in the truck. Glimpsing both figures Adam ordered Ford to stay inside the cab and start on homework.

Adam counted to ten before he disembarked.

He needed to remain calm no matter how furious this little stunt made him.

The boys had just crossed the bank to the picnic table to retrieve their clothes when Adam appeared in front of them. Crane was so surprised that he dropped his bundle of clothes onto the ground.

Sensing serious trouble, Ryan grabbed his own clothing and excused himself as fast as possible. He hurriedly jogged toward the road.

As with Tyler, Adam expressed a promise he would call Ryan's parents that evening.

Adam's sudden presence had shocked Crane into a frozen silence and he stared at his brother wide-eyed.

Adam waited.

Once Ryan departed from their view Adam directed his attention to Crane. "Start talking!"

Crane licked his lips, "Adam I…" he began before sputtering to a guilty stop.

"Now, Crane!" Adam demanded.

With no way out of the situation, Crane's eyes began to fill. "Well we just wanted to get to swim and so Ryan and Tyler did too, and we figured that if we asked to go swimming everybody would say no."

Even to Crane the excuse sounded lame.

He had to try, though.

Adam folded his arms across his chest, his dark eyes snapping. "You lied, Crane."

Crane dropped his gaze to the ground. The ripple of fear in his stomach intensified.

"To me." Adam directed, "Look at me right now. You lied to me, lied to me,Young Man." Adam stretched out the last words for emphasis.

Crane remained silent, not certain how to salvage the situation.

Losing patience, Adam reverted to questioning. "You lied to me?"

Crane licked his lips. "Yes. Yes, sir."

"There was no class project."

Crane nodded slowly, his expression miserable.

"Verbal response!"

Guilty tears started once Adam finally raised his voice. Crane didn't bother to wipe them away and they gathered speed. "No, there is no project," he confirmed.

Adam leaned against the end of the picnic table. He focused on Ford's small figure in the truck several seconds before turning his attention back to Crane. "All right, we have established that you made up the project. Let's keep moving. Where did you tell me you would be today, Crane?"

Crane answered dismally, "At Ryan's." He checked Adam's expression to gauge his brother's outrage. "I said Ryan's house, that I would go to Ryan's house."

Adam's jaw clenched. "What would have happened today if an emergency occurred and I needed to get to you instantly?"

Crane lowered his eyes again.

"I asked you a question!" Adam snapped.

"You wouldn't know where to find me."

"Exactly!" Adam confirmed. "And what would have transpired had you yourself gotten hurt or injured? No one except you and your buddies would even have an inkling where you are."

Several seconds passed while Crane processed Adam's points. Finally Crane made eye contact with Adam. "I know."

Adam inhaled deeply and gathered his thoughts. He regarded the twelve year old. "Do you have anything else you need to say?"

Crane's stomach tightened, certain Adam would punish him now. He shook his head back and forth, "No, but Adam I am really, really sorry and it was stupid. What I did was stupid and I won't do that again. I promise."

"I appreciate that. But I have the responsibility of rearing you and of keeping you protected and safe. So when you blatantly lie to me, position yourself in potential danger, and go off-grid where no one can locate you, you have presented issues I will never tolerate from you or from any of your brothers. Ever."

"Adam, I know I deserve…."

"What you deserve and what I am going to deliver is a spanking. I love you much too much to not punish you. That's final. If you ever think of trying something like this again I want you to remember that when you pulled this stunt this time, I tore your butt up for misrepresenting your intentions."

Before Crane had a chance to respond to the announcement or absorb the words Adam took a seat on the picnic table bench. Adam lost no time but yanked his little brother across his lap, Crane's thin frame and skinny arms and legs colliding with Adam's muscular body.

If he'd hoped for a reprieve Crane knew he wouldn't get one and he'd regret every second of his deception the moment he realized he wouldn't have one scrap of material to dull the spanking.

Sure enough, Adam delivered one very painful punishment that Crane thought would never end. To him it went on and on until he thought his butt would actually ignite.

Finally Adam stopped. Instead of letting his brother go he held Crane across his lap until the sobs of pain reduced to shuddery breaths.

Adam slipped him into a standing position then.

Adam pointed to Crane's clothing. "Get dressed and head to the truck. The punishment finished and we go forward from here. I love you, Crane, whether you believe it right at the moment." Adam's voice firmed again. "If we ever have to re-visit this situation or even a portion of this situation I promise I will use a belt instead of my hand. This family functions on realistic expectations and I will not allow you to shirk your part. Am I clear? Do you understand me?"

Miserable as he felt, Crane answered honestly. "I understand, Adam." His voice cracked a bit from leftover tears. "I learned my lesson and you won't have to spank me again."

Adam searched his face and seemed satisfied.

"Ok, get dressed," Adam directed. He left his brother to pull on his clothes and returned to the truck.

Crane dressed himself carefully, making sure that as he covered his bottom he did so gingerly. In his heart he admitted he deserved every bit of the consequence and Adam had every right to call him on it.

Swimming that afternoon with his friends hadn't been worth the price he paid for it.


	2. Too Two

Too Two

Guthrie McFadden had turned two in August, and with the milestone birthday his personality really blossomed into more than a hint of the little boy which would eventually emerge. What little hair he had mirrored Evan's shade of dark blond, but his expressive green eyes were his own. Sunny and an extrovert, he loved people, ran to instead of from strangers, and adored his six brothers.

As the sole child left at home while the others attended school he spent the majority of his waking time with Adam. Adam hauled him everywhere he went on the ranch, everywhere he went off the ranch, and all around their home.

Uri, their head ranch hand and a godsend to the family, would supervise the toddler in a pinch, and Adam was grateful for the older man's help.

Crane and Brian would assist with Guthrie's care but only when Adam assured himself that they had finished schoolwork. Sometimes that would give him an hour or so in the afternoon but generally it awarded him some time in the early evening. Their contribution allowed Adam snatches of time when he could work on household responsibilities or interact with the Itty Bitties.

Otherwise, he pretty much had Guthrie with him every waking moment.

As parents with more than one child could attest, younger children often imitate older siblings. So through his fraternal connection and homework time with his brothers Guthrie already had some background with letters, numbers, and an assortment of academic skills, which he gleefully interjected into any conversation.

He would beam with delight when anyone praised his scholastic endeavors.

Guthrie insisted upon helping his brother around the ranch, mimicking Adam's actions as Adam dealt with myriad ranch obligations.

Of course Adam humored him, as did Guthrie's other brothers.

Generally the toddler rocked his own little world with laughter. Unfortunately, though, a small percentage of the time he dissolved his happy-go-lucky persona into a tantrum throwing two year old.

One evening after supper Daniel, Ford, Crane, and Evan worked around the kitchen table completing their homework while Guthrie colored the picture of a clown alongside them. Still annoyed over the marker drawings on the laundry room wall the year before, Adam had barely relaxed his position of no markers without permission. Now the boys were allowed to use crayons or markers only while sitting at the kitchen table.

So far no more unwanted artistic renderings had appeared.

Across the table, Evan balanced in his chair propped on his knees. He leaned onto the table as he worked through his math practice sheet, pausing only to check the status of his latest loose tooth. It was during one of those checks that his pencil slid from his fingers and rolled towards Guthrie's side of the table.

Clutching a red crayon in his left hand the toddler snatched the pencil with his right. His green eyes sparkled in triumph. "Mine!"

"No, Guth," Evan contradicted, wrinkling his little nose. "That pencil belongs to me. I've been using it for my math 'cause second grade math is complicated."

Guthrie shook his head back and forth. "No!"

"Yes!" Evan countered, extending his hand, "Give me."

Rather than obey, Guthrie clutched the pencil against his chest.  
"Adam! Adam!" Evan yelled, leaning onto the table top to grab the pencil from the toddler's clenched fist, "Guthrie's taking my school things!"

He managed to yank the pencil away, but Guthrie retaliated for the loss by throwing his crayon at his brother.

That made Evan furious. "Stop right now! Adam!" Evan yelled.

Upstairs trying to organize the linen closet into a semblance of order Adam inhaled deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose.

What now?

He had left the boys barely ten minutes before.

Holding onto a stack of clean hand towels, Adam jogged to the upstairs railing and called, "I came upstairs for a reason- to work! What's wrong?"

Daniel tattled, "Guthrie's throwing his crayons at us."

"And he's taking Evan's pencil," Ford piped up.

A mental image of the tiny combatant and the scene in the kitchen popped into Adam's thoughts. "Guthrie, straighten up right this second," he commanded.

Frustrated, the toddler yelled in several spurts of anger as his reply.

Strategizing from the upper floor, Adam directed, "Crane, take Guth out of his high chair and put him in the living room please."

Crane slid from his seat and obeyed.

Chaos ensued the second Crane released the high chair's tray and pried the crayon from Guthrie's hand. "Coloring's finished." He swung the toddler from his cushioned seat to the floor and Guthrie responded by throwing himself on his back and drumming both heels into the table leg.

Crane stepped over him to return to his own seat and Guthrie seized the opportunity to kick right into Crane's shin.

The older child cried out in pain and grabbed his leg. The kick was so sharp that it brought tears to his eyes. He grabbed his leg at the knee and jiggled it in an attempt to alleviate some of the throbbing pain.

Witnessing the exchange, Ford climbed out of his seat and raced for the stairs. "I'm telling what you did, Guthrie, and you're gonna land in big trouble!"

As promised, he raced to the steps and shouted to his brother that Guthrie had kicked Crane.

Brian, who had been settling the animals in the barn after supper, walked inside in the midst of the commotion. He took in the scene before him, strode into the kitchen, and fashioned Guthrie into a football hold up against his hip.

"I've got it, Adam," he yelled to his brother.

Suddenly the enraged baby found his kicks hit no targets. He swung his hands futilely anyway. Trapped against Brian, he screamed as loudly as he could.

Crane held up his leg for Brian's inspection and Brian realized a quarter sized bump had already developed. He pointed toward the laundry room. "Ford, run to the big freezer and pull out one of the ice packs for Crane."

In a family of seven boys, their mother had always kept three or four ice packs on standby in the deep freeze.

Her family members continued the tradition.

Brian used his foot to shove an empty chair to his brother. "Rest your leg on the chair and put the pack right on the bruise." As a seasoned football player, Brian was all too familiar with injury protocols.

Brian waited until Crane settled before he jogged up the stairs with the enraged toddler. Adam took one look at Guthrie's demeanor and pronounced, "Somebody's in need of a time out."

Guthrie found the pronouncement distasteful and yelled even louder.

Brian switched the baby to Adam's arms before pivoting to jog back downstairs. "My, oh my," he grinned. "Guthrie's just too two now."

Despite the ear-splitting screams inches from him Adam laughed.

Brian filled his brother in on the details of the crime and Adam narrowed his eyes at Guthrie. "Well, I do believe a consequence named timeout needs to follow."

Guthrie stiffened in his arms, enraged.

Adam placed him onto the floor but kept hold of one tiny hand. Guthrie twisted to break free but Adam maneuvered them both into Guthrie's room and pointed to the toddler's designated timeout spot. "All right, little felon. You have two minutes of reflection in your future. As you know, I won't start that timer until you get quiet, so you need to settle quickly." Adam pointed toward the timer on the dresser's top. "Stop screaming."

Guthrie obeyed him.

"Good," Adam praised, "Go sit down in timeout now."

He let go of Guthrie's hand but Guthrie stayed put.

Adam commanded firmly, "Right now. Get your bottom into that timeout seat right now or I will smack that bottom. Do you want a spanking?"

Though he had no personal experience with corporal punishment to date, Guthrie's older brothers had acquired some. His siblings talked, and they discussed spankings, and Guthrie knew enough about spanking to decide against the option. He shook his head quickly. "No."

"Timeout," Adam repeated, pointing again to the spot.

Guthrie toddled hurriedly and planted himself in the chair. Despite the tearful face he looked so adorable Adam almost smiled, but caught himself. He reached instead for the timer and set it. "Now this punishment is for taking Evan's pencil, for kicking poor Crane, and for yelling and screaming. You may not move from your seat or talk until the timer dings. Clear? Understand?"

With a comically serious expression Guthrie assured him, "Guthrie clear!"

Adam set the timer before he leaned against the crib and folded his arms. Two minutes didn't give him enough time to resume closet duty.

Luckily Guthrie obeyed the terms of the punishment.

Adam took him to the bathroom for a potty break and after consulting his watch, decided to go ahead and bathe the toddler. As Adam sponged off the little face he reminded Guthrie of how much he and the other boys loved their baby brother, even when he did bad things, and how Guthrie should be kind to his brothers.

Once Guthrie was dry and in clean pajamas Adam escorted him back down the stairs. Homework had finished in the interim and Adam thanked Brian for supervising his brothers. The boys sprawled in the living room but clamored for Adam's attention once he appeared.

Adam held up a hand and put Guthrie down on the floor. "Hang on a second and let Guthrie talk. He has something he would like to say."

Guthrie tilted his head back and regarded Adam from the upside down vantage point. "Ok."

"What do you want to say?" Ford prodded.

"Probably that he is too two," Brian predicted.

Evan giggled. "You're silly. Too too doesn't make sense."

"Yes it does," Daniel countered. "We learned 'bout that in Language Arts. It's called holophone."

Crane corrected, "Homophone, not holophone. It's when the words sound the same but don't have the same spellings."

"So I said Guthrie is too two. I meant the t-o-o because it means also or a whole bunch, and t-w-o because that's the number of his age," Brian explained. "Guthrie acts just like two year old toddlers all over the world."

"I know another one," Ford bragged. "T-o is to."

Adam clapped, "Good job, Ford!"

"When is Guthrie gonna say something?" Evan asked, studying his brother.

"Right now," Adam promised. He placed his hands on Guthrie's small shoulders and moved him towards Crane. "What do you say?"

Guthrie toddled over to Crane and leaned down to kiss the bump he'd caused to his brother's leg. "I sorry, Crane." He patted Crane's leg. "You better now."

"It's okay. I forgive you." Crane ruffled the baby's hair.

Guthrie turned and flung out his arms to include the entire family. "Guthrie love everybody."

His McFadden brothers responded by assuring him they loved him, as well, and Adam pointed upstairs. "Now, guess what time it is, Loveman?"

Guthrie regarded him with a tragic expression.

Adam ignored it. "Bedtime. Tell everyone good night now."

Guthrie threw out his arms dramatically and his lower lip began to wobble. "Guthrie not sleepy!"

Brian smirked, "Here we go…"

"Oh yeah," Crane giggled. "He's too two, all right!"


	3. Blame Game

Blame Game

Adam McFadden eased the battered pickup truck into an available parking space right next to an aromatic juniper bush. He disengaged the engine but sat a moment to gather his thoughts.

He certainly did not want to rush to judgment. A meeting with Daniel's third grade teacher did not necessarily mean Daniel's conduct had declined.

Or did it?

No matter what the situation involved, if Daniel had brought trouble down upon his head Adam needed to remember that an assurance of his love should follow any discipline he levied. As a parent for a bit over a year now, the nineteen year old admitted to himself he still had much to learn regarding the subject of discipline.

For eighteen years he had existed solely on the receiving end of it, of his parents handing down the law.

Now, he was the law.

The aftermath meant something.

Crane had taught him that not too many weeks before. Adam had spanked his brother for lying about his whereabouts. That night Adam kissed him goodnight and switched off the bedside lamp.

"Adam, do you still love me?"

"What?" Startled at the question, Adam doubled back to the bed. "Of course I do. I just told you so, didn't I?"

Crane slid down under the covers. "Yes."

That settled that.

Adam turned to leave but paused once more. "Crane, why did you ask me that? Do you think I don't love you because I spanked you?"

Crane licked his lips. "You didn't hug me."

"When?"

"After you spanked me."

"I…" Adam searched for words. "What?"

Crane whispered, "Mama and Daddy would have…."

"Wait," Adam interrupted self-consciously. "I know exactly what you want to say, and you're right." He crossed his arms behind his head. "No matter what we did, they always held us after."

Crane smiled. "Right."

Adam sank down on the edge of the mattress and leaned down to kiss his brother on the cheek. "Sorry about that. I messed up today. I was still so upset even after I spanked you that I forgot to remember that I got my message across with the spanking, but at the same time, I failed to remind you that I will never stop loving you." Adam smiled. "So this is for you." He scooted back against the headboard and gathered Crane in his arms. "I love you more than you will ever know, and you are a blessing in my life."

Crane hugged him back. "Ditto."

"And Crane?"

"Yes?"

"I wish I could say this was my last mistake as a parent, but in all honesty, I know more will follow. But I'll keep trying."

"I know," Crane agreed, then turned to his side. "Good night."

"Night."

The ringing of the school's bell snapped Adam back to the present, his meeting with Daniel's teacher. Yes, no matter what Daniel had done, the boys needed him to assure them his love did not waver when he disciplined.

Adam unlatched his seat belt and opened the door.

The day smelled like rain, and he studied the clouds. Murphys needed the precipitation and he hoped the shower would add some much hoped for water to the soil.

If he returned to the family ranch in time he could take care of the outdoor chores before the rain arrived.

Adam pinched the bridge of his nose and slid out, closing the door behind him. He didn't bother to engage the locks. This was Murphys, after all, and people around the area tended to practice honesty in their actions.

Besides, who would really want to steal a battered, farm scarred, child impacted, old ranch vehicle?

Adam followed the sidewalk to the front door of the elementary school, the same school once attended by Crane, Brian, and him, the same school with Ford, Evan, and Daniel currently enrolled.

Nothing had changed with the décor. The original colorful signs still hung from the ceiling and greeted parents and visitors or pointed the way to the office.

Adam stopped to speak with the secretary, Marilyn Gordon. She had worked at the school for years and knew him, as well as all of his younger brothers. After the deaths of the McFadden parents, she had driven to the house immediately after the news broke and stayed with the younger boys so that a stunned Adam could prepare for his parents' funerals.

Ms. Gordon gave of herself with no expectation of repayment, one of those rare and incredibly loving souls.

Adam leaned down impulsively and kissed her cheek before departing the office for his conference on the third grade hall.

As he rounded the corner he nearly trampled the first grade class, who marched toward the cafeteria en route to lunch. Ford spotted his big brother and instantly defected, throwing himself against his brother and wrapping his arms around Adam's waist. Adam squeezed him quickly in return before leaning down to whisper, "Jump back in line before you get into trouble with your teacher. I don't want you to bring a frowny face home for me to sign."

The tiny hands immediately loosened and Adam grinned as Ford carefully re-inserted himself into the line. The first grade teacher communicated with parents daily by sending home either a frowny face report or a smiley face report to illustrate the day's behavior and schoolwork.

Adam grinned at the child's desire to follow the rules, and acknowledged Ford had matured. Even though Ford finished kindergarten the spring before, Adam still worried that Ford would falter without the protection and routine of the kindergarten approach.

The little boy had burst with pride at the start of the school year, excited to be a first grader and no longer what Ford dubbed a "baby" kindergartner.

Ford reminded Adam of a kewpie doll because a cowlick at the crown of his head caused a tuft of Ford's white blond hair to stick up straight. The child possessed an infectious laugh and rarely caused problems at home or in school. Like Crane, Ford had more of an introvert's personality, but he was far more timid and reticent than his older brother.

The little girl in front of Ford felt it necessary to report Ford's rule breaking to the teacher. She twirled a dark brown ponytail and tattled, "Ford didn't do what you said and he got out of the line to go see his daddy."

"That's not his daddy!" corrected a husky red headed boy at the end of the line. "That's his brother, Dum Dum."

The kids lapsed into chaos then, arguing back and forth for several moments until the teacher regained silence. Stabbed with guilt, Adam raised his eyebrows apologetically and presented her with his best sheepish look.

The teacher grinned to show her forgiveness, however, and reminded herself Ford's tall, dark and handsome brother oversaw six younger brothers. She motioned to the children to resume their trek to the cafeteria.

Adam waved a subdued goodbye to Ford before continuing to the third grade classrooms.

Daniel's homeroom teacher, Mr. Burrows, rose from behind his desk and shook Adam's hand in greeting. He indicated the empty classroom and crossed to the windows to point to the students outside at recess. Adam spotted Daniel balanced on a cross rail at the top of the monkey bars.

Mr. Burrows tapped the window to signal a group of girls jump roping. They called to Daniel and the little boy quickly swung himself from the equipment and onto the ground.

"Take a seat, please," Mr. Burrows pointed to a chair facing his desk. "Thank you for responding so quickly."

"No problem. School is the boys' number one priority and I'm glad you alerted me about Daniel."

Adam sat down and glanced around the room at the classroom décor. Mr. Burrows had devoted each wall to posters and decorations of the subject disciplines of Math, Reading and Language Arts, Science, and Social Studies. Throughout the colorful room Adam noted designated small-group work areas.

Daniel's appearance interrupted his survey. The little boy trudged into the classroom with a scowl firmly in place.

Adam smiled reassuringly and motioned Daniel to him. He embraced him quickly and watched as Daniel slid into his assigned desk and rested his head on his propped elbows.

Once Daniel settled Mr. Burrows reviewed the purpose of the conference, a serious decline in Daniel's work output.

Daniel's lip puffed into a pout as Adam glanced from the little boy to the teacher during the explanation.

Goofing off at school must be some rite of passage, Adam told himself. Last year Crane had pulled an almost identical stunt to Daniel's.

"As we know, Daniel's a very smart child," Mr. Burrows summarized, "but he wants to entertain the class too often. I have told him numerous times that the classroom is not the forum for his performances; instead, his recess time is wide open for whatever enjoyment he desires." The teacher checked for confirmation, "Right, Daniel? We have discussed this."

Instead of replying Daniel kicked at the desk in front of him, taking a measure satisfaction in the resultant clang.

"Stop banging," the teacher ordered automatically.

Daniel scowled harder but obeyed.

"Daniel, Mr. Burrows just asked you something." Adam didn't have to work too hard to confirm the little boy's guilt. Daniel had evidently been enjoying himself way too much at school. Adam directed firmly. "Sit up right this second and reply to Mr. Burrows."

The third grader obeyed and mumbled, "Yes, I know to play at recess."

"Good," Mr. Burrows responded.

Adam re-directed his attention to the teacher. "Over the phone you said Daniel is not completing work. Does that mean work in class or homework?"

"Both, actually." Mr. Burrows reached into his sturdy oak desk for his gradebook, opened it, and elaborated, "In the past two weeks he has failed to turn in two homework assignments and…" Mr. Burrows tapped his forefinger against the page and counted, "one, two three, four class assignments."

Adam turned instantly to confront Daniel.

"That wasn't my fault!" Daniel insisted, his voice rising with each word. "I didn't know I had homework!"

Adam narrowed his eyes. "Daniel," he warned. The child knew better than to be disrespectful.

"And it's not even my fault!" Daniel protested with eight year old fury. "I…."

Adam interrupted, "Enough- be quiet right now. Don't say another word. Just listen."

With his protest in mid-sentence, Daniel regarded Adam first with annoyance, then with a bit of worry. Daniel thought quickly about his options. Adam tended to get mad when one of them tried to blame an irresponsible act on someone else. He decided to follow instructions and get quiet.

"Remember what we talked about last night," Adam reminded him pointedly, his uncompromising tone transforming the words to a hypothetical statement rather than a query. "Our whole family- we talked about school expectations and school behavior and where priorities should always remain."

Somewhere in the middle of Adam's reference Daniel resumed his victim demeanor, but tempered it to nod in agreement.

"Ok, then, if you recall I told you last night that you were to never disrespect your teacher nor were you to play in class." Adam paused. "Look at me, Dan."

Daniel straightened his posture and Mr. Burrows couldn't hide a smile at the genetics evidenced before him. All of the McFadden brothers physically resembled each other and even shared some of the same mannerisms.

Adam leaned forward to rest his forearms on his knees and reminded Daniel, his tone unyielding, "I made you a promise last night about the consequences if you copped an attitude. Do you recall the conversation, or do you want me to remind you again?" Adam's voice had adopted the no-nonsense steel edge that served as a warning to the boys. "I can reschedule this conference with your teacher after you and I go back to the house for a bit," he suggested.

Though reluctant to surrender his dramatic pouting, in his heart Daniel knew better than to continue his current behavior. The evening before his brother had indeed rehashed some non-negotiable rules about behavior, and Adam had not been the only one to contribute to the conversation. Crane had reminded Daniel of the details of his academic freefall some months before, and Brian had shared the story of the penultimate consequence of such behavior from his own elementary school days. A born storyteller, Brian narrated the first-hand memory from the perspective of his younger self to a rapt fraternal audience:

 _So I thought I was the man as a fourth grader, because that was the grade in school when kids had grown enough to have not one, but two academic teachers. Once school really got going and the newness wore off I decided I could pretty much run the classroom my way, working when I felt like working and breaking rules I wanted to break. This went on for three straight days while both those teachers tried to reason with me or punished me. Once that didn't work and they realized they needed reinforcements they called the folks._

 _Now the one thing Mama and Daddy prized after bringing us up with a religious background was our educations. They absolutely-undeniably-not-in-your-wildest-dreams did not play when it came to school. So when one of my two academic teachers phoned home the grown-ups concluded together that the problem wasn't an academic learning one._

 _Unbeknownst to me, Mama and Daddy requested the teacher phone the very next time I failed to work. Now nobody told me that the school and the parents were in cahoots with each other, so I just went right ahead with my new action plan of freedom from work. I didn't even expend the energy to sharpen a pencil. Turns out, this happened the very next day after the teacher initially called the house. So without even hesitating, my teacher phoned home the second she told us to turn in math papers and discovered mine was blank._

 _Next thing I know our Daddy's standing in the classroom doorway. Let me tell you, I know my eyes got as big as saucers when I saw him appear. He and the teacher spoke privately a second before she handed him my math page. Of course it was blank- except for my name. Daddy motioned for me to step outside and I decided to brazen it out so as not to lose face with my classmates. My antenna went up but I still thought I was ok, but then he told me to explain why nothing was written, no work attempted. I offered one excuse after another- you know, the blame game- and he shot them all down, one at a time. Then, my ever helpful teacher presented him with a list of the work I needed to make-up and Daddy took it and told her he was taking me home._

 _Let me tell you, that was news to me! Daddy didn't offer any explanation. He checked me out at the office and I got that funny butterfly feeling in my tummy like something bad was happening or was about to happen. I kept trying to get Daddy to tell why he was taking me home but he would flip the question to having me explain once more why my schoolwork hadn't been done._

 _That was one really long car ride._

 _So we got home and I guess Mama expected me because she didn't act surprised when we walked in together. Crane and Daniel were in the living room. Daniel was a baby then, and Mama was just cleaning him up after lunch. She came in the kitchen with us and when she joined Daddy that feeling in my stomach just bottomed out. Daddy gave her the gist of the teacher's claims and directed me to tell Mama how my lack of work at school had nothing to do with my own actions._

 _When I opened my mouth and started to say something Mama levelled me with that look- you know, she had this way that she narrowed her eyes when she knew you weren't being honest and I started fumbling with my words. I tried to offer a defense again but she was relentless and finally I just stumbled to a stop and quit speaking altogether. So Daddy filled in with additional info he had gleaned from my phone call loving teacher._

 _Mama and Daddy used to have these glances between them, not saying anything, just looking at each other in certain ways. And when that happened they would just completely unite without making a sound. It didn't matter what issue arose, they just had this secret communication they would use when they wanted. So the instant I witnessed them look at each other that way I knew my classroom free time had just imploded. Then I started crying because I knew what would happen next. As you are aware, our folks rarely spanked, but once they decided to put their hands on you they meant you'd regret every second of whatever sin you'd committed. So I was already bawling. Loudly. Daddy yanked me across his lap and tore my butt up right then and right there in the kitchen. And let me assure you, the spanking was beyond painful. Oh man! I can still remember that pain! When Daddy finally turned me loose he helped me pull my clothes back over my butt and they both reiterated their expectations. Mama pulled me over and kissed me and talked about how much they loved me and that it was their duty to help prepare me for a successful life. Then she ordered me to go wash my face. I thought the worst had passed. But, no! Mama drove me right back to school and made me return to class with my butt still throbbing! Oh wow!_

 _The second I got home from school that day Daddy and Mama sat me down and supervised my make-up work, along with my regular homework. It took me four days of working diligently after school to knock out the make-up work, so that sabotaged every second of my free time. But they promised that when report cards came if I had even a single bad grade anywhere I could expect another spanking. They operated that way. Had I been disrespectful to the teacher I would have been spanked as well. So when I took the next report card home I can assure you it was one that made them proud. Mama and Daddy did not play about schoolwork or teachers- no, they absolutely did not!_

Mr. Burrows tapped Daniel on the shoulder and the startled third grader realized his teacher had been talking to him. "Sorry," he mumbled, then supplemented the apology for Adam's benefit. "I 'pologize, Mr. Burrows. I was thinking about something else and didn't hear you."

The teacher smiled. "It must have been important, because you were definitely lost in thought."

Daniel glanced at his oldest brother for direction.

Adam raised his eyebrows expectantly as a response.

"Mr. Burrows," Daniel turned to address his teacher. "Could you please let me finish all that work at home and bring it back to you? Would that be ok for me to do?"

Nodding thoughtfully, Mr. Burrows agreed. "Fine, Son, but until that work is complete and in my hands, you will still forfeit recess."

Daniel winced, but nodded his acceptance. After all, even he knew that he deserved the punishment.

"Further, this is the last time I'll allow you to make up work you failed to complete in the classroom due to conduct. If you start playing again, you'll keep any zeroes you earn."

Adam glanced from Mr. Burrows to Daniel before addressing Mr. Burrows. "After today, you should see a noticeable improvement. However, if Daniel misbehaves or doesn't work again- the second he starts goofing off, call me and I will drive to the school. I can assure you I don't take his behavior lightly and he will have plenty of time at home to take care of his schoolwork."

The two men stood and shook hands. Adam motioned toward Daniel. "Mind if Daniel walks me back to the office?"

Daniel's expression changed to one of uncertainty. Brian's narrative from the previous night remained at the forefront of his thoughts.

Was it a trick to load him into the truck, take him home, and spank him?

But Adam said the office, not home.

Mr. Burrows waved his consent.

Adam waited until they had almost reached the office entrance before he spoke. He leaned down and kissed the top off his brother's head, then titled Daniel's chin so the boy met his gaze. "Dan, you made me really proud by taking responsibility for this problem and for changing your attitude. You started off by trying to play the blame game but you stopped and chose a wiser path. That was great and also the right and smartest move."

Daniel smiled shyly. He idolized Adam, and having Adam compliment him pleased him enormously.

"Still," Adam continued, "what I told you last night still stands. I expect good grades and I expect you to behave at school. Both. Until you get control of both you are forbidden from watching television and from playing outside at home. You will be applying any potential free time toward completing your make-up work. Clear?"

Daniel's eyes filled and he swiped the back of his hand across them to halt the tears. The loss of play time was a big deal to the third grader. He nodded.

"Verbal," Adam prompted.

"I understand, Adam."

"Good. Further, if Mr. Burrows calls me again about witnessing you playing in class, not completing work, or misbehaving in any way I will spank. I promise. I will not warn you again, but you will be across my lap."

"I- Adam, I don't need a spanking," Daniel quickly interjected.

"Great, but you will have to prove that to me each day with good work and behavior and by zero negative teacher calls home."

Daniel wrapped his arms around Adam's waist. Adam kissed the top of the dark head once more before tousling the child's hair. "Off you go. Hurry back down the hall to Mr. Burrows and get to work. I'll see you when you get home this afternoon."

Adam returned to the parking lot and climbed into the truck. He cranked the ignition and murmured ruefully, "I feel just like Mama and Daddy must have felt listening to all of us playing the blame game- yet another job requirement of parenthood handed out with no instructions except the common sense kind."


	4. Game Plan

Game Plan

When Adam answered the phone to a greeting from Evan's second grade teacher at the Murphys elementary school, he groaned before he could censor himself. Any week he managed to make it without somebody's school calling he considered spectacular.

Adam had genuinely thought he had this elementary one in the bag.

Certainly not all of the school's calls to the house signaled something unpleasant. In all honesty, ninety eight percent of the phone calls involved forgotten homework, unsigned forms, field trip permission forms, someone with a fever or upset stomach, or just a pleased teacher calling to brag on a McFadden student.

The remaining two percent, though- those conversations required Adam's undivided attention.

No, demanded- they demanded his attention.

From conditioning learned with months of experience at the family's helm, Adam had mastered the realization a call from the school meant a response was required of him.

As Adam clutched the phone he steeled himself for the teacher's motive. Whatever had happened, whatever Evan had done, he would have to deal with it, take action in some form.

Adam pinched the bridge of his nose.

Since he had braced himself for the absolute worst, it took him by surprise when Ms. Linares explained her purpose as concern with Evan's participation-or lack of participation- in the upcoming schoolwide Thanksgiving presentation. Evan's second grade class had a specific role in the program, as did the other elementary grades.

Ms. Linares shared that the school had delegated the second graders to act as Native Americans greeting the Pilgrims and joining the Thanksgiving feast.

Adam listened without interrupting, puzzled, not exactly certain how all of that involved Evan and presented a problem.

Finally Ms. Linares elaborated. The second grade contribution required several lines of individual dialogue and the singing of two songs. Confident in Evan's communication skills and sociable personality, Ms. Linares had asked Evan to take one of the major speaking parts.

He refused outright.

She had then tried to commit him to the singing of a solo chorus, which he also rejected. Alternately, she told him he could sing as a part of the larger class choral group, which he also rebuffed.

Ms. Linares needed Evan to participate in the Thanksgiving program.

Adam promised to talk with the little boy and assured Ms. Linares he supported Evan's participation.

Adam rehashed the conversation throughout the day and contemplated possible reasons for Evan's refusal.

After supper that very evening Adam enlisted Evan's help making the family's weekly grocery list. The child loved writing down items as Adam called them out, and Evan concentrated hard on spelling them correctly on paper.

That particular activity amounted to a right of passage, of sorts. Their mother had begun the practice when Adam started school as a means to provide a real-life connection to school and home as well as a way to hone spelling and writing skills.

Clutching a paper pad and pencil Evan followed Adam as his older brother inventoried the pantry.

Adam moved some storage canisters to the back of a top shelf and pulled a couple of other bins to the shelf's edge. "Put corn meal on your list, Ev," Adam directed.

Evan braced the paper on a box of macaroni and carefully wrote, meticulous about the neatness of the two words. As with his food eating habits, Evan took particular pains with how he crafted letters and words.

Adam often marveled at his brother's nearly perfect penmanship.

"And sugar, regular sugar."

Evan regarded him quizzically and scratched the lobe of his ear.

"As opposed to brown sugar or powdered sugar. Just regular sugar," Adam elaborated.

"Got it. S-u-g-a-r."

"Now, let's see what else we could use," Adam continued and slid into a clever way to introduce the school play. "Definitely we can stock up on pecans. We can freeze them but we always use them in a couple of our Thanksgiving dishes."

Evan's brow wrinkled as he wrote. "How do you spell it?"

"P-e-c-a-n."

"No letter k?"

Adam pursed his lips and pronounced the word slowly, stressing the syllabic divide within the noun. "Peeecaahnnn. Sounds like a k but it's the c sounding like a k like in the word cook."

"Uh oh, I put two of the letter e," Evan erased and carefully printed the word again.

Adam turned to face him, "That reminds me, do you know offhand the date of your school's Thanksgiving performance? I forgot to mark it on the big calendar."

"No, I don't know," Evan replied with no sign of distress. "I guess maybe Thanksgiving."

"Good call, Sport! I could have guessed it would be near Thanksgiving," Adam laughed. "I can find out later. Hey, what part do you have in the performance? Each grade has a different role, right?"

Evan scowled and answered irritably. "I don't want any part."

"What?"

"I don't want to have any part. I don't want to be in that play at all."

"Wait, why or earth not? What's your play about?"

Evan's scowl relaxed. "Well," Evan responded, "it's all about when the Settlers landed in the United States a long time ago and then the Indians of the American Natives found them and fed them for Thanksgiving dinner."

Adam shrugged his shoulders. "So I don't understand. What could be better than staging a play where you pretend to eat yummy food? Why are you unhappy with that?"

The scowl returned. "Ms. Linares wants to make me sing some kind of song." Evan positioned the pad and pen on a shelf and appealed to his brother. "Adam, how would you like it if somebody made you sing in front of a zillion trillion people? You wouldn't want to do that."

Adam paused before he spoke. "Evan, you love to sing. You have always loved singing."

"Maybe to us I do, but not to the whole world," the child clarified. "We know each other."

Adam rubbed his chin. "Well I certainly understand that singing in front of an audience can appear really scary, but you've actually done that at church many times when all the kids sing in the choir. You have an excellent singing voice, Evan. I love to hear you sing any time."

"Yes, but school isn't church," the child reasoned.

"No, I know that." Adam smiled at his little brother. "Ms. Linares will understand if you bail on singing a solo. However, you can certainly participate by singing with your class."

"I don't want to do that," Evan answered stubbornly.

Adam shifted so that he could reach out for his little brother. He tilted the child's chin so that Evan's gaze met his own then spoke softly, but firmly. "Bottom line here, though, is I expect you to participate in school events. That participation encompasses homework, and classwork, and field trips, and assemblies. So you will have to either change your mind and sing in the chorus or speak to Ms. Linares about another role. You don't get to just skip participating at all, because if you don't contribute to the show, you will end up in big, big trouble with me."

"That is not fair whatsoever," Evan complained with a scowl.

"Actually, it is. Your job involves doing well in school. My job involves supervising you so that you do well in school."

"Adam, I don't want to sing with anybody else."

"Well now you have an option, and when I attend the show to watch you in your performance I'll be so proud seeing you on the stage. All of your brothers will be proud of you."

Evan kicked at the floor with the toe of his shoe. "What other part can I do? The only people are the Cowboys and the Indians."

"Figure that out when you speak with Ms. Linares."

"Wait, I meant Settlers and Indians."

"I knew what you meant." Adam tousled the blond hair. "You, my man, have every right to get some butterflies in your tummy, but no right whatsoever in refusing to participate."

"Why would I eat butterflies?"

Adam laughed and tweaked Evan's nose. "We call that expression an idiom. But think about butterflies and how their wings move back and forth. When people get nervous or shy about something sometimes their tummies flip flop like that, like butterfly wings. So when we say you have butterflies in your stomach it means you're a bit apprehensive or worried."

"Oh."

"All right, now that you know my expectation, you are the person who takes responsibility of arranging your part. You make your own game plan." Adam leaned down and kissed Evan's forehead. "I love you and think anything that you do in the Thanksgiving play will turn out fantastic."

Tired of the conversation, Evan grabbed the pencil and paper. "Tonight I'll think about my game plan. But tonight we need to worry about all of our groceries."

Adam laughed, "Right you are. Let's get busy."

Once the boys left for school the next morning Adam debated calling Ms. Linares to share the gist of his conversation he had initiated with Evan. Eventually, however, he decided against it. He had told Evan to take care of his part and he needed to allow Evan the independence to do just that.

Adam shook his head and reminded himself he had to work on learning not to hover.

Despite his self-restraint Adam waited impatiently for Evan to return that afternoon. Once he settled the Itty Bitties for their afternoon snack, he leaned against the kitchen sink as Ford, Evan, and Daniel reported on their school day.

Finally he couldn't wait any longer and he motioned to Evan, "You, little cute boy, how did your game plan go today?"

"Great!" Evan assured him with a huge grin. "Ms. Linares and I came to a very important understanding."

"What game plan?" Daniel demanded.

"Yeah, I don't know anything about a game," Ford added. "I want to play."

Adam moved to the table to sling his arms across Daniel's and Ford's shoulders. "Only Evan worked on a game plan today. Let's hush now so I can hear it."

Enjoying the spotlight upon him, Evan drawled, "Well friends and family," he giggled at their expectant expressions, "or whatever you are, for the Thanksgiving my class is going to have a…." He paused and drummed his fingers on the table. "…a Native American Indian welcome dance!"

Ford questioned, "A what did you say?"

"I know! I know!" Daniel bounced in his seat. "Like when we went to that festival last summer and saw all the American Indian exhibits! Remember they said we could dance with them and we did."

Now that had been a wonderful outing, Adam recalled, an event he had planned for the sheer motive of focusing upon something frivolous and entertaining for a change. He had driven the family to a festival honoring several Native American tribes one hot June day and where all of the boys found something to enjoy.

Demonstrations included tutorials in archery and hunting, teepee construction, and the power of Native American music and dance. At one point in the exhibition the performers invited the audience to accompany them in their welcome dance.

Once invited, all of the boys had raced to join the dancers- even Guthrie. Adam had sent the family camera into overtime snapping fantastic shots of his little brothers gleefully involved in the cultural ceremony.

"So wait," he instructed Evan. "You told the teacher you wanted to dance? To dance?"

"Yep!" Evan confirmed with a grin.

"And she agreed?"

"Oh yes she did!" Evan elaborated. "She even made me captain of the Native Indian American dance…"

Daniel interrupted, "Native American Indian, or just Indian."

"Don't interrupt," Adam admonished Daniel.

Evan snapped at his brother. "I know that, Dan." He perked up to add, "Anyway, six of us in the class will dance the welcome dance and Ms. Linares and I will teach everybody how to dance it right."

"Oh Evan, I love it!" Adam assured him. "And you! I love you and am so proud that you not only came up with a game plan, but found such a creative one."

"Because I'm brilliant and my game plan is, too," Evan winked.

"You're smart," Ford added loyally. "Very, very smart."

"That too," Evan agreed. "And guess what the best part is, Adam? I don't even have to sing at all!"


	5. Eyes Wide Open

Eyes Wide Open

The soft click of the doorknob turning, the sweep of the re-energized air as the bedroom door opened, and the give of the mattress springs joined to tug Adam McFadden out of deep sleep.

Enmeshed in a dream, Adam resisted the pull and struggled to wake.

Without opening his eyes he extended his arm to pat the body of whichever brother had joined him. After the year-plus of time he had acted as the family's guardian/parent he had grown accustomed to the demands and expectations of his role in the family. Having a younger sibling crawl into bed with him now occurred so routinely that Adam could generally ascertain the identity of his visitor by simply patting him.

That tactic allowed Adam to keep his eyes closed which meant he would fall back to sleep sooner.

This time, though, his touch failed.

Tonight's bedfellow lacked a cowlick, so he could distinguish Ford had not joined him. Guthrie slept in his crib, still too small to scale the railing and leave his room, and Adam ruled him out. This sibling didn't have a tall, slender build so that omitted Crane. Despite the sturdy, muscular stature, his visitor was too big to be Daniel or Evan.

One brother remained.

Adam struggled to pull himself up enough to check and confirm, necessitating he open his eyes. Blinking, his sleepy brown eyes met Brian's troubled blue eyes. "Hey," he greeted. "You sick?"

Brian answered softly, "No, not sick, just still upset."

Adam regarded him sympathetically. "I can imagine. I am so sorry about Chase."

The day had not been a good one for his brother.

What an understatement!

In truth, it had been a nightmare.

A long pause ensued and Adam realized his brother fought for emotional control before he trusted himself to speak.

"Yep, I am too," Brian finally shared.

Adam regarded him. "I have prayed for his family several times since you told me."

"I have prayed, and I have prayed some more," Brian confided. "And Adam, I still feel terrible."

The hurt in his brother's voice cut into Adam's heart. Even in the moonlit darkness he could see his brother's pain manifested in his face. Adam reached over and rubbed Brian's cheek. "I can tell. It's kept you awake."

His younger brother didn't respond.

"Listen," Adam instructed, "Painful as this circumstance is, it would do you good to share the whole story. You gave me the gist of today when you got home, but why don't you provide some detail for me now?

Brian weighed the toll Adam's proposition would take on him emotionally. Truthfully, confiding the rest of the story would help him share the burden with Adam. His older brother often acted as a sounding board when Brian attempted to work through a problem or issue, or even just needed a listener or supporter.

"You said that the young man killed himself with a deliberate overdose," Adam prodded.

Brian stretched and crossed his arms behind his head. "Correct, and his name was Chase Haven. He left a suicide note behind so that's how the police determined it was suicide and not an accidental overdose."

"You had class with him for which subjects?"

"British Literature. He was in my British Lit and also my Calculus class. He just moved here a couple of months ago so he transferred from a school out of state. One time in the cafeteria Chase told me that he never wanted to move or leave his old school, that it upset him he had to move. But even when I asked he wouldn't tell me why the family had to move or why the move had to be to Murphys. Chase acted pretty evasive and I just didn't push him."

"Did he make any friends?"

"Well, he wasn't the extroverted outgoing type at all, but he got along with everyone, like when the teachers divided us into groups to work together. Pretty easy going and laid back. He was a pretty decent basketball player, also."

"Family?"

"Whole family moved. Dad's a long distance truck driver and gone from home a lot. The mom was a waitress." Brian paused and drummed his fingers against the headboard. "No, I don't think that's right. She was a waitress but found a job as some kind of aide at the nursing home here. Chase's family wasn't too big. He was the middle kid with one older sister and a younger brother."

Adam exhaled loudly. "What a tragedy for that family!"

"Our school counselor met with us right after homeroom this morning and the administration met with all of us first thing after that. I guess they knew the news would spread and they wanted us to get the facts before the rumors started. Chase did this, he took the overdose, yesterday after he got home from school."

"I'm glad your school responded by trying to help. I guess they knew that they needed to address the grief issue. So they were there to support and offer comfort."

"I know."

"Who told you about the suicide note?"

"They did."

"Aaah." Adam rubbed his chin. "So they wanted to head off any speculation and just provide an honest account of what transpired."

"Expect so."

"Brian, instead of grappling with the pain, just share it with me," Adam suggested softly. "Put some of the burden on my shoulders."

Brian turned onto his side to face Adam and rested his head on his arm. "I had my eyes wide open, Adam, and I missed it- never saw it coming. I didn't pick up on a single thing, any hint at all that he planned to kill himself yesterday evening."

"You can't blame yourself because…."

"He sat beside me in British Lit yesterday, Adam! He even saved my butt when the teacher called on me for an answer knowing full well I hadn't been paying attention. Chase whispered the answer to me so I got it right and didn't get into trouble." Brian's eyes filled and he rubbed angrily at them. Wet streaks dripped onto his cheeks.

Adam regarded him sympathetically. "What was the question?"

"She asked who Chanticleer was in _Canterbury Tales_. Chase whispered rooster and that was the correct response."

Adam grinned knowingly. "Good old Chanticleer! I remember him well, and I especially remember how highly he thought of himself. He used to prance around the yard and brag about his lady loves."

"The one and the same," Brian confirmed. "So Chase handed me the Chanticleer save on a platter, or whispered the save on a platter. At the end of class when the bell rang to end the period I thanked him."

"Ok."

"No, I thanked him, Adam, and that's the last thing I said to him. I didn't ask him if everything was ok, or if he'd had a good day. I just slapped him on the back and said, 'Thanks, Man, you saved my butt' and he just nodded. It's haunting me- _that_ -that is what is keeping me awake. If I had simply taken a little more time or tried a little harder maybe I would've picked up on he was depressed or desperate."

"Hey," Adam pulled himself up against the headboard. "I know it seems that way and it feels that way but truthfully, Chase made the decision to end his life. When someone reaches that point, when the person can't get past the pain or feels helpless to control the pain, then the will to die has already taken root. You could not have changed the outcome even if you had walked with him to the next class. Let me stress that. You could not have controlled the outcome."

Brian's blue eyes clouded with his emotional turmoil. "But if I…"

"No," Adam interrupted, "no, Brian. Ultimately, Chase decided on his own path, a path which has devastated his family and classmates. Maybe he thought he could no longer handle his inner pain. I don't know, though. I don't know why that young man contrived to end his life or his motive for dying, and there are certainly dozens of suppositions I could make. However, I do know without a doubt that you, my brother, would have never have stood by while another student bullied Chase, or made fun of him, or ostracized him in any way. So for the brief time in your school his problems did not involve meanness in his grade level or at his new high school. Someone looked out for him, even indirectly. Someone made Chase welcome and one part of his life bearable. You were that someone, Brian, whether you can see it now or not. And for that, you should allow yourself some peace."

Brian sighed, "I hadn't thought about it that way."

"When something's too horrible to handle emotionally we tend to break it apart and agonize over our roles, or lack of roles, and how they played out in the event."

"Really?" Brian teased. "How did you get so all of a sudden smart?"

Adam smirked and punched his brother playfully in the chest. "Done deal, you brat, and done since birth. Mama and Daddy knew they had a genius with their firstborn and none of you others could compete."

"Or," Brian countered, "you disappointed them so badly they kept having other kids to cover up your many faults."

Both of them laughed at Brian's quip.

Eventually Brian sobered, "It's been a long time since we've been able to slip into that back and forth like we used to do."

"Yes, it has," Adam conceded. "All of those wise words about Chase's death I didn't just think them up myself. Those are some of the points Reverend Samuels shared with me after Mama and Daddy died. I nearly drove myself crazy second guessing words I should have said or deeds I should have done. All of it just ripped me apart."

"We couldn't have saved them," Brian used his forefinger to tap his brother in the chest. "You know that, right?"

"And you couldn't have saved Chase," Adam reiterated. "Even with eyes wide open." He paused a second to control his emotion. "Mama and Daddy, what happened took place outside of our control. And Chase's decision to choose suicide, that was out of your control, Brian. Whatever his reasons, despite whatever his suicide note said, no matter how he is eulogized, Chase chose to travel that particular path. Not you, Brian. Not you."

Brian studied Adam's expression several moments before answering simply, "Ok."

"Ok," Adam repeated. "Brian, I'm glad you came to me and reminded me once again how fantastic it is to have you as a brother. You make me proud." He smiled.

"Appreciate that."

"Now close your eyes. The midnight hour passed us by quite a while back."

Brian shifted into the opposite direction and stretched languidly. "Since I'm so fantastic, how about extending my curfew for next Friday night?"

In the dark a relieved Adam smiled.

Brian would make it through Chase's death.


	6. Loyalty

Loyalty

Ford's excitement at his promotion from kindergarten to first grade permeated every fiber of his tiny being in the summer interlude between the two grades. He chattered constantly of his far more mature status and the harder work required by the first grade teacher, along with his glee in reporting that first graders no longer took naps.

His older brothers fed his excitement with their own personal first grade anecdotes and Ford savored each, replaying it within each conversation to reflect what he would have done in the same situation.

The one track focus could have grated on the family's nerves.

Could have.

Rather than consider him annoying with his repetitive first grade commentary, however, the brothers indulged him because Ford was just so cute! His little face lit up whenever he talked about his promotion to first grade and his eyes actually sparkled.

Adam had to physically bite the edge of his lip to keep himself from an emotional undoing that first day of school, Ford's first day as a first grader. Ford had insisted upon riding the bus to school despite Adam's secret hope that he could drive the little boy to school instead. So instead Adam stood holding Guthrie, the two of them waving goodbye from the edge of the yard while Ford climbed the huge steps to the elementary school bus behind Daniel and Evan.

Adam worked to not crumble.

It took super human effort.

What an introduction for Ford McFadden, though!

Ford slammed into first grade with such exuberance that his teacher called Adam personally just to brag on the little boy. What an introduction!

Ford's conduct earned him gold stars and positive notes home.

The first grade teacher celebrated Ford's dedication to academics with even more gold stars and positive communications with Adam.

Academically Ford thrived, and socially he flourished. Despite his normally introverted personality, Ford never lacked the company of friends to join him at recess.

Further, one of the Connections teachers at the school sponsored the Chess Club and invited Ford to join. Adam initially responded that Ford needed to be older but the sponsor assured him that the child's natural intelligence would help him learn to strategize in chess. Since the Chess Club met one day a week after school Adam had to drive into town to collect him.

After that first meeting Ford raced out of the school building almost bursting with unbridled enthusiasm for the game.

Ford had thoroughly enjoyed the introduction to the Chess Club and he felt pretty grown. Most of the students were third graders, though two fourth graders joined the ranks. In a serious voice Ford shared that no teachers had recommended any second graders for slots and he- Ford McFadden-was the only first grader ever invited.

Once Adam saw Ford really enjoyed the game he dipped into what money he had managed to put aside over the past year and purchased a chess set for the family. Ford and one or more of the brothers would play a couple of times each week.

The only drawback to Ford's fantastic year appeared in the form of one Cassidy Colter, a feisty first grade redhead who pursued Ford in the hope of an alliance as his girlfriend. Ford complained about her vehemently and repeatedly to Adam, stressing to his older brother the fact that he endeavored to remain single and unencumbered all of first grade. In addition, Ford assured him he had lived his life cootie free and planned to keep it that way, no matter how charming Cassidy could appear.

Privately Adam thought Cassidy adorable. He had seen the little girl several times and her sparkly, personable nature complemented stunning blue eyes and strawberry blond pigtails. Besides that, with such an outgoing personality she could surely rub some social skills onto the contemplative and introverted Ford. However, Ford refused to view her as anything but undesirable and unwelcome, despite Adam's repeated attempts to present Cassidy in a favorable light.

So those first weeks of Ford's first grade life were pretty idyllic.

He flourished.

However, after that initial utopic period Ford began a transformation as autumn deepened. He grew quieter, shared less of his day, and gradually began to lose some of the newfound independence he had gained at the beginning of the year.

His grades and teacher comments remained positive, though.

One school day afternoon when snack time finished Ford declined Adam's invitation to play outside afterwards. Instead, he chose to go sit on the sofa and read.

Adam had nothing against reading and always encouraged the boys to pick up books, but something in the child's demeanor signaled him that all was not well.

He studied Ford thoughtfully. How much time had passed since he had witnessed Ford race into the house to share a school story?

Adam winced as he attempted to recall the last time he had heard the child genuinely laugh.

Ford sat carefully on the family's sofa, his legs and feet extending just inches past the sofa cushion, not quite tall enough to sit against the back frame and bend his legs at the cushion's edge. Adam studied the child's intent expression as he concentrated on the page in front of him. Even as a baby Ford had demonstrated excellent focusing skills.

Adam crossed the room and slid onto the cushion next to his brother. He rubbed the crown of Ford's head where his blond cowlick sat. "What's up little pup?"

Ford used his finger as a bookmark and met Adam's glance. "Nothing. Just reading."

"That looks like a pretty good book."

"I like it," Ford acknowledged.

"Did you check it out of the library?"

"Yes," Ford used an elbow to push himself back to rest against the couch's arm.

Adam grinned, "Not too talkative today, are you?"

"I don't know."

"Did you have a good time at school today?"

"I 'spose."

"Well you could give me a bit more detail, couldn't you?" Adam smiled to take any sting out of the question. "Help out an old man."

Ford looked up at him and made eye contact but then glanced back at the book. He spoke softly, "I just want to read, ok Adam?"

Not positive of the next best move, Adam nodded with pretended enthusiasm. "Ok, sure. Absolutely. Yes, I am proud that you read so wonderfully." He stood up and then leaned down to kiss the soft cheek. "Let me run on out to the barn and finish chores. Come get me if you need me."

Once the first concerns over Ford's well-being entered Adam's sub-conscious he found himself worrying about the first grader constantly. He decided to give the situation a couple of days in which to allow the little boy a chance to return to his normal sunny self.

Everyone had an off day now and then, Adam assured himself.

By the third day Adam had no doubt that Ford had undergone a serious transformation. He called the school and set up an appointment with Ford's teacher and then began sorting through his own mental notes. It struck him that Ford had begun to lose interest in the Chess Club and had begun a pattern of asking not to stay for club meetings. Adam had vetoed that suggestion, reminding Ford that he had promised to not only give the club his best shot, but had also promised to stick with it.

For good measure Adam also scheduled a check-in with the Chess Club sponsor while he was at the school.

Unfortunately, neither teacher shed any light onto Ford's change of behavior. They both reiterated his attributes and assured Adam he caused absolutely no trouble.

Something still didn't feel right, and Adam wanted to get to the bottom of it.

If he didn't advocate for his Ford, who would?

Still, Ford resisted every opportunity Adam offered to divulge where the trouble lay and Adam eventually quit pressuring him to talk. Adam consoled himself that surely Ford would confide in him when he felt ready.

In the meantime, though, Adam decided to enlist the troops. Sometimes effective parenting required unorthodox approaches.

One pleasant fall afternoon he left Guthrie in Uri's care and checked Daniel and Evan out of school early, then drove them to Marie's for a treat. While they feasted upon huge slices of apple pie a la mode he christened them recruits in a campaign dedicated to getting to the bottom of Ford's transformation. He asked the boys to utilize their own surveillance skills, then told his band of brothers he wanted them to shadow Ford at the next Chess Club meeting to see if they could pinpoint whether the problem lay there.

Visitors were always welcome at the club meetings, so their presence would not cause concern. They joined Ford at the next club get together.

Evidently Daniel and Evan took their mission seriously. It delighted Ford that they had come to visit and he treated them much like show and tell objects. Once students divided into their practice teams Daniel and Evan occupied themselves investigating the rest of the classroom and eventually they became engrossed in reading books on the history of games the teacher handed them.

With a start Daniel looked up from his book several minutes later and scanned the room.

No Ford.

He approached the teacher and received reassurance Ford had just excused himself to the restroom. Daniel motioned Evan and both boys received permission to go, too.

Something activated Daniel's spidey sense and he signaled to Evan to tiptoe and remain silent as they left the classroom. As soon as the boys rounded the corner to approach the corridor with the restroom they heard voices. They quickened their pace and positioned themselves right outside of the bathroom where they could identify distinct voices. They came not from within the bathroom, but from a small hallway on the other side of it.

One voice belonged to Ford and it sounded scared.

Evan signaled they listen a little longer and the children continued to press their bodies against the wall. Evan whispered that one of the voices belonged to a boy in his second grade class and Daniel hissed a response that two other voices were from his grade, third.

Then abruptly Ford stopped talking.

The sound of shuffling mobilized the McFaddens from their positions and both boys began to run. Once they skidded to a stop they discovered three big boys pinning Ford and another small boy up against the wall.

Enraged, Daniel plowed into one of the captors. "Turn him loose, Virgil! That's my brother!"

Caught off guard at the interruption, Virgil loosened his grip.

Ford seized the opportunity to slip away.

Evan grabbed his brother's arm and shoved him toward the wall. "Stay out of the way of this, Ford!" Like Daniel, he didn't try to hide his anger at the scene he'd discovered.

Surprised, the kid restraining the second boy pivoted to confront the newcomers. Dressed in a green Izod shirt he resembled a ridiculous alligator. Sensing his own freedom, the other victim struggled to escape and rushed to where Ford regarded the scene wide eyed.

"What's going on here?" Daniel demanded.

"Nothing, Imbecile," the third boy responded. "Not a thing. How about getting out of here?"

"I'll leave when I'm through," Daniel retorted. "And I'm not through. Somebody better tell me why a failed third grader…"

Virgil and the unidentified boy snickered and the Alligator boy rounded on them. "Shut up, how about it!"

"Did he really fail, Dan?" Evan called out in his best sneering voice. "Really fail?"

"Sure did- twice. So he's one stupid boy," Daniel concluded with a smirk.

The other boy balled his fists and his face turned a sweaty red but he stayed frozen in his spot.

"Who gave you permission to touch my brother? Looks to me like you've been messing with him for a while." Daniel regarded them. "What bullying ape two grades ahead would pick on a first grader? You're a loser!"

Evan positioned himself at Daniel's side and put both arms astride his hips. "I want to know the answer myself. Three loser boys picking on a first grader and…" he turned to regard the second victim, "and another kid half their size spells bullying."

"Couldn't find anyone your own age to fight?" Daniel taunted. "You're as cowardly as you are stupid."

"Or size to fight," Evan added. "Make sure you know now that's our brother," Daniel pointed to Ford. "And three somebodies put hands on him. Nobody hassles our little brother."

Ford's voice shook with the injustice he had endured. "All three, Evan. All three of them have been messing with us."

Evidently Alligator Boy felt it a good risk right then to flex his muscles. He lunged toward Ford but Daniel shifted into his path, causing the two boys to slam into each other and then onto the floor.

The confrontation exploded!

Daniel's fists flew with such impact that within seconds he reduced Alligator Boy to a whimpering mess trying to defend himself.

After several blows had made contact Virgil rushed over and delivered a punch into Daniel's stomach, blindsiding him. The second his fist crashed Evan made his own contact with him, smashing his fist into Virgil's nose.

Blood flew and splattered the wall with the impact.

Terrified at the carnage in front of him, the un-named boy bully pivoted to run. He couldn't resist throwing his hand out and smacking Ford before he did, however.

Emboldened by the presence of his brothers Ford assumed a crouching football stance Brian had taught him, braced himself for collision, and barreled into his enemy. Despite Ford's weight blasting into him the boy managed to stay upright. Ford took a small step back and then jumped, landing onto the boy's right foot with all of his weight.

Ford knew the strategy worked when the boy's scream ricocheted around the entire hallway.

In the chaos the second victim skedaddled, frantic to inform the teacher of the potential bloodbath two halls away. By the time the teacher jogged to the scene the fight was over, however.

The match could best have been described as one-sided.

Daniel, Evan, and Ford stood in a semi-circle around the three antagonists and the teacher sucked in a deep breath. All three McFaddens had ripped clothing but even disheveled as they appeared, they grinned. A few bumps and bruises, clearly McFadden badges of honor, served as souvenirs of the fight.

As for their adversaries, those three had suffered quite a beat down. Ford's attacker rolled back and forth on the cold tile floor sobbing in pain, his knee pressed to his chest and his hands wrapped around one foot. Virgil's nose sat off kilter on his face, framed by two black eyes.

In addition, Alligator Boy's mouth was so swollen that his top lip almost covered his nostrils.

Ford smiled angelically at the teacher. "You want me to get Virgil some tissue? Looks like he's got lots of blood and boogers all over his face."

The teacher stared back and forth between the two groups. "Who is responsible?"

Daniel pointed towards the three boys. "Sorry 'bout this, but we don't allow anybody to bully our little brother or…" He titled his head and indicated the second victim, who had summoned the teacher and followed the teacher back to the hall. "…or anyone smaller. Nobody should pick on kids who are smaller."

"It's not right to gang up three against two," Evan added. He pointed to the un-named boy and added, "Want me to help that bully stand? I believe my little brother Ford might have broken his bully foot or something."

Finally the teacher reacted. "I'm going to help all of you get cleaned up and in your desks back down in the room. I want a full explanation of what happened here but I will remind you this school has a zero tolerance policy for bullying. That means you three," the teacher indicated the troublemakers, "will spend some time suspended. Help each other up and make your way to the classroom to call your parents. As for you three McFaddens, the school will have consequences for fighting." The teacher pointed to the clock. "I want to talk to your brother when he gets here to collect you. Make sure he comes inside and speaks with me."

Ford, Daniel, and Evan exchanged worried glances. Adam didn't approve of fighting, at home or in school, and his consequences were usually rough when a fight did occur. They couldn't imagine what punishment he would levy for an out and out school brawl, but they held no doubt it would be designed to make them regret their involvement.

Adam surprised them, however. The teacher had lost no time investigating the root of the conflict. Once the teacher briefed him of the ongoing bullying Ford had endured and the cause of the afternoon's confrontation he praised his brothers' loyalty to each other and their willingness to stand up against bullying. He told them how proud they made him and why they should always support one another. As for his punishment for fighting, Adam restricted Ford, Evan, and Daniel from watching television that night, stressing they should always try to find a way to solve a problem without using their fists.

The stunned trio regarded his decision wide-eyed. They had expected spankings, or weeks of being grounded.

The school's consequence was taking away their recess the next day.

Evidently all of the adults sympathized.

As for the three antagonists, Ford reported to Adam they had been kicked out of the Chess Club for the remainder of the year and the school suspended them for a solid week. When the three cowardly amigos finally returned still physically battle scarred they were greeted with whispers and sneers from classmates who found it hilarious they had gotten their bullying butts beaten in part, by a first grader named Ford.


	7. Sunday Night

Sunday Night

With school in session, Sunday nights at the McFadden home always served a dual purpose. Readying for the school week carried the greatest priority, and all of the boys, right down to little Ford, knew to have all school materials stationed by the front door and Monday's school outfit ready.

Sunday also functioned as a winding down block of time, a peaceful and reflective period adopted prior to attending church and lasting until bedtime.

One brisk autumn Sunday night Adam grinned as he jogged downstairs. On the sofa Ford, Evan, and Daniel raptly followed a television program huddled together like a litter of puppies.

Adam squinted at the clock, then at the set. It appeared the Disney show had ten or so more minutes to run.

He had already told the boys that their bedtime would immediately follow the conclusion of the show.

Guthrie had been put to bed already and slept soundly.

Brian showered upstairs.

The other boys had bathed in turns and were pajamed and technically ready for bed.

Adam made another visual check. Yes, they did appear sleep ready. Evan's hair had not dried completely so damp curls framed his face, and Daniel had put on a pajama top and underwear, but no pajama pants. Adam opened his mouth to send Daniel for the rest of his nightclothes but changed his mind.

Why not let them enjoy the last of the program with no interruption?

Adam discovered Crane sprawled across the overstuffed armchair caddy corner to the couch, having skipped the show to read his latest book. His blond head hung upside down off the chair arm while he held the book straight up in front of him to read.

Adam tousled the blond hair. "What's your book?"

Crane flexed his arms and moved the book so that he could see his brother. "I still have more time left to read, Adam," he announced.

"Did I say a single thing about bedtime?"

"No, but…"

Adam sighed. "I'm not putting you to bed early, Crane. I simply asked about your book."

With no looming threat of bedtime Crane's eyes lit and he swiveled his body into a sitting position. "Oh wow, this story is something else! It's called _I Am The Cheese_ and it has these really dark undertones, so nothing is really what it appears."

"Does it center around a rat?"

"What?" Crane regarded his brother with confusion. "Oh, no, no. Mainly the story focuses on this teen boy searching for his father but that's just a section of the entire plot puzzle." Crane widened his eyes dramatically.

"You have convinced me you're a fan," Adam laughed. "Keep reading."

Adam leveled a quick look at the kitchen and surveyed the schoolbags by the door. Everything appeared ready for the next day and the boys had followed instructions and taken care of their responsibilities.

With a contented sigh Adam dropped into the leather recliner and groaned in pleasure at his chance to relax. He had zipped from one family or ranch duty to another all day long, and had really had zero time to simply sit, or catch his breath and rest.

Adam allowed the cushions to embrace him and wearily closed his eyes. How fantastic it would be to fall asleep. He could sleep right there until morning with absolutely no exertion whatsoever required from him.

His tranquility shattered as a body slid onto him.

His eyes flew open. Crane held his book aloft in one hand as he regarded his brother inches away. "Memories, Adam."

"What memories?"

Before Crane could clarify his cryptic pronouncement three small heads swiveled to regard Adam. "Show just finished," Ford announced.

"I liked that one," Evan added enthusiastically. "I hope it comes on again in a rerun."

Adam struggled to rouse himself and sit upright. "Ok, then we need to…"

"Ask me," Crane interrupted.

"Ask you what?"

"About memories 'cause this book is full of them. Ask me my earliest memory. Go ahead."

Adam chided him, "Don't interrupt then."

"I know a memory," Evan volunteered.

"Not just any memory," Crane directed his attention to the second grader. "Think about the very earliest memory you have of when you were really very little."

Ford and Daniel approached the recliner and Daniel placed both hands on the arm rest and catapulted himself into a sitting position across Adam's thighs. Ford tried to copy the move but landed closer to Adam's chest. His big brother wrapped an arm around him and maneuvered him into a comfortable sitting position.

Not willing to miss the opportunity to cuddle with Adam, Evan followed suit by climbing up the back of the chair. He scrooched down the back cushion until he cemented a position directly behind Adam, little legs poking out between Adam's arms and chest.

Surrounded and immobilized, Adam couldn't resist laughing. His Itty Bitties had effectively pinned him under their little bodies. "Did you three get together with Crane and plan this so you could stay up late?"

"Memories, Adam," Crane reminded him. "Pay attention."

"All right, Mr. One Track Mind, what do you want me to say about memories?"

"Well," Crane pointed to the book. "Memories make up the foundation of this book and my curiosity wants to understand their power. So, what's your earliest memory?"

"Oh, I know one," Ford volunteered. "Let me talk about a memory. Pick me, Crane."

"Just Adam," Daniel reminded him.

Adam rubbed his chin. "Let me think a second." He glanced at the staircase and the family pictures which framed it. "Ok, I have one. I remember one time when Brian had just celebrated his first birthday, so I was three, and Mama put him in the bathtub with me and made mounds of bubbles for us. They captivated us and we started playing with them and having so much fun Mama got tickled and called Daddy to bring the camera. Daddy snapped a couple of pictures of us slathering soapsuds all over each other and then he and Mama just watched us play together."

"I like that memory," Evan commented. "And I like bubbles."

"That's not it, though," Adam insisted. He narrowed his eyes and consulted the boys. "Know what big brother Brian did during that bubble bath?"

In unison, four heads shook back and forth to signal they did not know.

Adam sucked in a breath and exhaled dramatically. "Big brother Brian peed in our bathtub!"

"Ewww!" Daniel responded, slapping his hand dramatically against his forehead.

Crane burst into laughter. "You had pee all over you? What kind of bath was that?"

"Did he get in trouble?" Ford asked, adopting a practical approach.

Evan pointed out, "He was a one year baby. Babies don't get in trouble. They don't know any better."

Adam smiled at their delighted response and added detail. "Well, so all those beautiful bubbles in the tub turned from snow white to Brian- pee yellow."

"Yucky!" Ford shrieked. "Yellow pee bubbles!"

"Shhh," Adam admonished, holding a finger to his lips. "Not so loud, please. Remember Guth's upstairs asleep."

Ford clapped a hand over his mouth.

"I know a memory," Daniel swung his arm in the air. "Let me tell everybody one."

"No, my turn," Crane contradicted. "I started this anyway."

Evan used his elbow to poke Adam in the side. "How come I never get to go first or say anything?"

"You do," Adam assured him. He clapped his hands softly and turned his head meaningfully toward the clock. "What time does that say?"

"But we're having fun," Ford protested in alarm. "And we're not even fighting."

"Let us stay up just a tiny, tiny bit longer." Daniel used his thumb and finger to demonstrate an infinitesimal amount. "Please?" He bestowed a sweet smile upon Adam, the very one which usually accompanied his entreaties.

"Itty Bitty," Evan parroted, "cause we're the Itty Bitties. Just let us stay up an itty bitty bit of time more."

When Adam failed to respond immediately Crane seized his opportunity. "Ok, here's my very earliest memory of all, so everyone practice some silencio."

Adam ruffled his brother's hair. "Make it short."

"I will, but let me start."

"We're listening," Evan assured him. "We'll be really quiet."

"So before Daniel came into the world I had the place to myself with Brian and Adam at school. So that meant I had lots of Mama and Daddy time." Crane batted his eyelashes. "And they loved that."

"Silly!" Ford accused.

Crane ignored him. "Mama drove us to Murphys one morning and on the way we came across this beaten down old car off to the side of the road with this lady and a little kid sitting on the grass right beside it."

"Oh, I remember this," Adam interjected. "Mama was pregnant with Danny Boy when that incident happened."

"How wonderful for her," Daniel gloated.

The others laughed at his smug response.

Ford tapped Crane on the leg. "What happened to the car? Why was it there?"

"Well, Mama stopped and found out the car had given out of gas and the husband was walking the rest of the way into town to buy some."

"It was worse than that," Adam interjected. "They had absolutely no money, so he was going to town to ask the local storekeepers if he could do enough odd work to earn money to fill up his container with gas so he could take it back to the car."

"Why didn't they have money for the gas?" Daniel puzzled.

Adam began, "As it turned out…."

"My story, Adam…" Crane interrupted.

"Right, I'm sorry."

"So what about the money?" Daniel persisted.

Crane turned a sheepish expression toward Adam and shrugged his shoulders.

"Oh now you want me to help you?" Adam teased.

Crane grinned. "Just a little bit of help."

"It was just one of those incredibly horrible situations," Adam explained. "They were good people who worked hard but the dad lost his job and he had been their breadwinner. He couldn't get work, and then the wife couldn't find work and they struggled to keep afloat with their child."

Evan shifted and his foot kicked Ford in the side. "Evan hurt me, Adam!" Ford tattled.

"Did not!" Evan responded. "You know it was an accident."

Adam pivoted to look pointedly at Evan. The little boy scowled. "Sorry, Ford. I didn't mean it."

"Get back to the story," Daniel urged. "What came next?"

"I only remember that part I told you. I don't know any more," Crane replied.

Daniel switched his attention to Adam. "What else happened?"

Adam rubbed his chin. "The details escape me, but it ended with Daddy picking up the man in Murphys and the two of them getting the gas and coming back to the ranch. The whole family stayed with us a couple of nights before resuming their journey."

Ford tried to process the conclusion. "So did they earn any money to take on the trip?"

"They certainly did. Daddy hired the man for those hours and paid him, and when they left Mama had the car packed with enough food and groceries to keep them afloat for a couple of weeks. Over the years they have written with updates and the last time Mama received a letter they were doing well."

"Have we heard from them this year, though?" Evan asked.

"Yes," Adam assured him. "In fact, I had a long conversation with them not too long after Mama and Daddy died. I guess I failed to share the details."

Ford rearranged himself and declared, "I want to talk now about my memory."

"You've got to have one first to talk about it," Daniel observed.

"I do!" Ford insisted. "I have one."

Brian's appearance at the top of the stairs interrupted the proceedings. He peered over the banister and adopted a terrified expression. "Brother Adam disappeared!" he cried in a tragic voice. "What happened to my big brother? Did aliens eat him? Did a monster abduct him?"

Ford giggled. "No, he is right here."

"Don't see him," Brian declared, jogging his way downstairs. "However I do see Crane, Evan, Daniel, and you, Ford."

"We covered him up with us!" Evan chortled. "That's why you can't find him."

Brian studied the group. "Still don't see him, but I'm going to sit in the chair with all of you, too."

"Nooooo…." All the boys contradicted as Brian pretended to throw himself onto the pile.

Laughter erupted before Brian grabbed Daniel and swung him onto his shoulders. "Caught a captive!" he declared.

Evan and Ford immediately deserted Adam to climb upright on the chair. Evan held out his arms. "Let me be the captive now."

"Thanks for the release," Adam laboriously struggled to his feet and stretched. In his tenure as the parent his responsibilities often took precedence over enjoying spontaneous events like tonight's.

He gazed at the happy faces surrounding him and smiled at the familial bond. "I loved spending this time with you. However, I need everyone marching upstairs to bed."

Before the protests could begin, Adam grabbed Ford to him on one side and Evan on the other. He winked at Brian and challenged, "Come on, let's see who can beat Crane upstairs!"


	8. Puppy Love

Puppy Love

Satisfied that Crane would fall asleep in the next few minutes, Adam moved quietly from Crane's bed to check on the younger boys.

He had tucked Ford, Evan, and Daniel in almost an hour before so he expected they had already journeyed into dreamland.

That proved not to be the case, however. When he paused to straighten the covers over Evan's still form the seven year old flipped onto his side with a grin, "Hey there Adam."

"Hey yourself. You should be asleep by now." Adam brushed back Evan's light blond bangs.

"I know," Evan whispered, his words a bit fuzzy from the fresh loss of a top tooth. "Except I can't sleep yet."

Adam sank down on the edge of the mattress and laid a calloused hand against the little boy's cheek. "You don't have a fever," he pronounced, careful to keep his voice low so as not waken the others. "Do you feel sick like sick to your tummy?"

"No, not sick," Evan shook his head back and forth.

Puzzled, Adam narrowed his eyes. "Well why are you still awake so long after I tucked you into bed?"

Evan shifted so that he could settle with his head cushioned in Adam's lap. "Do you understand puppet love, Adam?"

"Puppet love?"

"Yes."

Adam began to rub Evan's back, the strokes gentle and soothing. "Love among puppets?" he guessed. At Evan's giggle he admitted, "No, then, maybe puppets don't even like each other. So you will probably have to explain puppet love to me, but you have to hurry. It's way past bedtime for you and tomorrow's a school day."

Evan reached up and tapped Adam's chest. "Right here with your heart when you love somebody a whole bunch."

Adam licked his lips and tried to follow the little boy's train of thought. "Do you mean a girl?"

"Exactly!" Evan's face lit in the semi-darkness and he grinned gleefully.

Adam pursed his lips, "Do you love some little girl, Evan? Someone in your class?"

"Yep!" Evan assured him proudly without a hint of hesitation.

Adam bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. "That sounds wonderful. Will you tell me her name?"

"Meredith."

Adam waited for more detail but Evan evidently felt he had answered the question. Adam tapped his little brother's nose. "Ok, Buddy, I want more than that about Meredith. Tell me something about your little miss."

"Ok," Evan agreed. "She is in my class and she lives right by the post office."

"And?"

"And she has long, long, really curly black hair."

"Uhm, sounds pretty."

"She wears earrings," Evan added and held his forefinger and thumb together to demonstrate what he intended. "Like this. Her earrings look like this."

"Hoop earrings."

Evan confided, "We decided to be boyfriend and girlfriend."

"Did you now? How did that come about?"

Evan scrunched his face in concentration. "Tuesday she gave me her chocolate milk at lunch so I said she could be my girlfriend."

Adam laughed then, and Evan scowled. "That's not funny to me!"

"No, no it's not," Adam agreed glancing around the room to check if he had waked anyone. "It's not funny at all. But tell me this. Do you love her just because of the chocolate milk?"

"No, she knew I loved her before because I wolf whistled."

Adam blew out a frustrated breath. Why had Brian felt it necessary to teach their brothers to wolf whistle? He knew Adam worked hard to foster some manners in them.

Evan struggled to a sitting position and asked thoughtfully. "Don't you understand love?"

"I thought I did." Adam shrugged his shoulders. "What else makes you love Meredith, though?"

"I love her 'cause she's beautiful and I pick her flowers sometimes at recess. And she loves me 'cause she says so all the time."

"Well, that clarifies it for me. Thanks."

Evan responded with an angelic smile so adorable that Adam felt his chest tighten at the sight. "I can see plainly why Meredith fell for you. You're as cute as a bug in a rug, incredibly handsome and intelligent, as well. Evan McFadden is quite a catch."

"I know," Evan agreed.

Adam coughed pointedly.

"Oh, I mean I know and thank you."

"Now that we settled that, you need to lie back down and close your eyes." Adam lifted the edge of the covers so that Evan could slide down underneath them.

Once settled Evan tugged on his brother's sleeve to remind him, "You forgot about the puppet love."

"I did forget. Where did you hear that term?"

"My teacher said it."

"Tell me the context," Adam directed, then modified his request. "What was happening when your teacher told you the puppet thing?"

Evan frowned in concentration. "After we eat lunch we're s'posed to take our trays to the lady who washes them. So I took mine and Meredith handed hers to me and I took that too."

Adam smiled, "Now that thoughtfulness impresses me." He leaned down and tweaked the tiny nose, eliciting a giggle from the pint sized narrator. "But I interrupted you. Finish the puppet part of your story."

"So I put my tray in my right hand…" Evan held up his hand to demonstrate. "…and I carried Meredith's in my left hand. But my teacher asked me if I ate two lunches!" He grinned gleefully. "Bet I could eat two lunches!"

Adam scratched his chin. He seriously doubted the boast. Evan's eating habits drove him to distraction on a daily basis. Not only was Evan a finicky eater, but he consumed one item on his plate at a time before tasting another, eventually finishing off the vegetable, then the meat, and the next food group without combining a single food item.

"Because Brian said my muscles got bigger in the summer and that's why I could carry trays like that."

"Sounds plausible," Adam agreed.

"Anyway, Meredith forgot to put the milk carton on the tray but she caught up with me. She set it on the tray before the cafeteria lady took it and she almost got into trouble 'cause she ran in the lunchroom. But she said that her boyfriend had her tray and then the teacher knew we were boyfriend and girlfriend."

Adam nodded conspiratorially. "Teacher found out the secret, right? The cat was out of the bag."

"Yep!" Evan wiggled down a bit under the blankets and tried to cover a yawn with his hand.

Adam noticed and slid off of the bed. "Way past your bedtime."

Evan grabbed his sleeve. "Wait a second, please. I want to finish my puppet story."

Adam regarded the elfin face and compromised, "Ok, but you have to hurry. You should already have sailed into dreamland by now."

"Thanks," Evan responded. "And the end of the story is then my teacher told the cafeteria lady that Meredith and I had the puppet love."

Realization dawned on Adam and he grinned and corrected, "Puppy love, Evan. The teacher said it was puppy love."

"We're not puppies," Evan scowled with indignation. "We're people."

"Puppy love is an idiom like letting the cat out of the bag. We really don't mean puppies or a cat but we use them as expressions of what we mean. So a puppy is a young dog but as the puppy grows he changes. As a person grows he may love many people and grownups understand that that first puppy love won't be the last. Like you- you'll meet more girlfriends than Meredith and will think you love them, too, before you actually even mature into an adult."

Evan remained silent several moments as he pondered Adam's explanation. "So did you have a puppy love?"

"I certainly did," Adam assured him. "More than one, in fact. And Brian has had his own puppy loves too. Puppy love is supposed to help get you ready for your most important grown-up love, the love of a lifetime."

"What if your puppy love stays all the way until you get grown and then ends up as the love of your life?"

Adam brushed a hand over Evan's soft cheek. "That could certainly happen. No more discussion about puppy love, though. I want you to close your eyes and go to sleep. I love you."

Evan shut his eyes obediently. "Love you, too. And just so you know, Meredith is going to be my puppy love and my grown up big dog love, too. Night night, Adam."

"Good night, Evan," Adam murmured as he tiptoed from the room.


End file.
